Page 69 of The Bastard's Iberian Bride
“In these parts? We can be to Gretna and back by then. The girl will be safer once she’s yours.”
Bink laughed, ruefully. “Mrs. Gibson?”
“Aye. And she’ll be an Everly, also.”
He held the light higher. “And who are you, Kincaid?”
“A friend. To the old lord, and to Paulette. And to you. I’d suggest we leave statements for the coroner to review. They can call us for the inquest if need be. But I think they’ll rule this an accidental death of a thief.”
“What do you know of Agruen?”
“Not much.” Rocks clattered above them as lights approached. Kincaid lowered his voice. “But I know something of Josiah Dickson.” He lifted his chin and shouted, “We’re down here.”
Huddled with Mabel and Jenny, there’d been no sleep the night before, and as a consequence, Paulette had finally succumbed in the coach to a fitful, dream-filled, swaying slumber, one that, she later discovered, had lasted through three changes of teams.
When she awoke, her head was on Mr. Gibson’s shoulder and her maids were nowhere around, and the carriage was still moving.
Mr. Gibson awoke almost immediately and checked his surroundings. His arm around Paulette—which she hadn’t noticed until now—tightened and he pulled her into a kiss that quickly became heated. Her hat fell away and he tossed it to the floor on top of her lap desk.
When his hand moved to her breast, a sharp stab of pleasure made her gasp.
He released her and studied her face. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
She rubbed her palm along his bristly jaw. “It was pleasure, not pain. Do you always awake so enthusiastically?”
He smiled, and then laughed. “No. But I hope to every morning from here out.”
“Why are you here?”
He huffed out another laugh. “Kincaid and Johnny insisted. And I fell asleep in the saddle.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
A worry niggled at her. Mr. Kincaid was a question mark. She’d not spoken more than one word with him.
“Do not worry. It’s open country, and if anyone is pursuing us, he’ll be spotted in time for Ewan to wake me. Though here I am, already awake.”
She frowned and he tweaked her nose.
“You mustn’t worry.”
“I’m thinking. About last night, if I hadn’t gone to your room—”
“No, Paulette.” His arms engulfed her.
“But you thought the same thing. Is that why we left before dawn? You were worried about Agruen?”
“That’s part of it. Spellen was Agruen’s man, and we don’t yet know why he wasn’t still locked up. I sent an express to Hackwell.”
After Bink returned with news of Spellen’s death, she’d shared Jenny and Mabel’s room, Johnny guarding their door, and thought about Agruen’s words to her in the library at Greencastle. Spellen was searching the bags, which meant the rings weren’t enough. He needed something else to solve the puzzle. “What was the other part?”
“We wanted to leave before the coroner could arrive to detain us. We left our statements.”
“What did you say?”
He squeezed her hand and sighed. “You should probably know. I said I met you in the corridor leaving your maids’ room and escorted you to your chamber, where you found the intruder. That we fought and he jumped out the window. That I saw him running away.”
